


Singularity

by RowanStar



Series: Introspective Solos of an Idol [1]
Category: Lost in Translation (Webcomic)
Genre: (i think), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanStar/pseuds/RowanStar
Summary: sin·gu·lar·i·ty/ˌsiNGɡyəˈlerədē/noun1. The singularity is a hypothetical point in time at which growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, resulting in unforeseeable changes to human civilization.2. The point at which one can no longer return to a person they used to be.
Series: Introspective Solos of an Idol [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742878
Comments: 10
Kudos: 39





	Singularity

**Author's Note:**

> for extra heartache please listen to [Singularity](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xn1L9pvk6sE) as you read thank you and goodnight

When did it get like this?  
  
Jaewon had never been this person, the kind of guy to go out solely for women or to mess around like so many his age. This wasn't what he wanted. This isn't the kind of man he wanted to be. How many people had he disappointed this way? How many fans have dropped the band entirely because he was forced to be the payment for fame? Everywhere, all the time, it's scandal this, headline that, photos that paint him in bad lights and the flash-click of cameras around his every move. It's worth it, though, because he knows he's helping the others to achieve their dreams. Even if he is to become this way, then he'll be able to know that he's done something to help his bandmates. It's worth it, it has to be. Except...  
  
Is it right to hold it against them? Is it fair of him to feel hurt and alone after he accepted that this would be how he lived from now on? He's done all of this for them, changed his image to fit that of what the CEO expected of him, so why does he feel like this?  
  
The phone screen is incriminating in it's brightness, article after article that makes him out to be all these things that he's _not_. A womanizer, a player, nothing more than a pretty face plastered online to garner more ratings. He's seen the comments that follow anything they release. How many Mayniacs want him gone. How much people detest these things he's "done." Despite how eager he is for the band to succeed, there's a small and bitter part of his heart that resents having to do this, that harbors hate deep in him towards his bandmates for being blissfully oblivious.  
  
And worst yet, Jaewon's grip is beginning to slip on it.  
  
He's been able to reign it in so far, knowing he's helping. Being able to rest because he's helping people he cares about. But every day, it feels like that part of him gets bigger and bigger. More bitter, more resentful of the life he's been forced to lead. Every day, it grows and every day just the same, Jaewon's grip becomes looser on it. He was near his breaking point already, but this? This is bubbling over, dark and volatile, so close to pushing him into the opposite direction. If he can keep his head up and keep smiling, then maybe one day he'll be cleared of all of this mess.  
  
The waves keep rising, though, without mercy, and every breath above them becomes harder to take. What would happen if this keeps up? If everyone lives peacefully ignorant and unaware of what he has to live through day in and day out. It hurts so much to continue, to keep pushing on and on and on-  
  
 _Spill it. Act out. Let everyone know just how much you hate this, what you have to do just for them to cheer and scream mindlessly and throw you under the bus._  
  
Those thoughts, he hates those thoughts. They're always creeping in his mind now, and he can't stop them, and it's really only just a matter of time until he slips and opens his mouth too wide one day and he's truly in trouble with absolutely nothing to show for it. He's changing too much.  
  
The soft fur of the little plush penguin is a small comfort, but not enough. It's not enough, nothing is _ever_ **_enough._** He's changing, too fast and too much and he doesn't know what'll happen if he keeps up like this. He feels like he's going to crash, to fall and shatter into a million different pieces and he'll ruin everything. If he does, he'll drag the band down with him and become the very thing he wants to escape. If he bottles it all up, chokes the vitriol out in his heart, he'll drown in his feelings and he'll live a life as someone he was never supposed to be. There is no way to win here. Ahn Jaewon is destined to a life of misery and not a single choice he makes from here on out will change that. Every path leads to pain, to thorns and spiraling into dark places that he can't see the end of.  
  
 _Hasn't he suffered enough yet? When will it be over? When can he **rest?**_  
  
The questions, the thoughts, the hatred boiling in his heart threatening to spill over. All of it is too much, and Jaewon curls around himself as if hiding behind clasped arms and a lowered head will protect him, will fix everything. It won't. Nothing will. It's another small comfort. He hasn't cried since the very beginning of all this. Not since he first learned he'd be the scapegoat of the group, not since he heard the whispers of fans as they travel. Yet now, his cheeks are wet and plush of the penguin grows damp in his hands. His phone lies abandoned on the floor where it slid off the bed at some point, screen dimmed.  
  
There's a mirror he faces that he sees in his dreams sometimes, more often now than before. He sees someone with his face that isn't him. There's something in that reflection's eyes that isn't a look he's ever seen himself with. It's dark, and wild, and more than once he's woken up with a dry and bitter laugh at the resemblance to his stage name. The reflection has only stood there, ominous for reasons he's never been able to understand. There's been cracks webbing along the mirror lately, the reflection only offering that same smug look and standing as always. He's always been able to touch the surface of the mirror, but he hasn't in so long because of the fractures that split it, too scared to ruin something that would become irreparable.   
  
This time, the reflection speaks. It's the same voice that colors his thoughts with something he's not, something that makes his heart twist painfully sometimes and other times only accentuates his apathy. It speaks the same words, the same sound, everything the same but it's not _him._ Jaewon doesn't register it at first, but he's stretched out a hand to clamp over that version's mouth and to quiet the voice. It isn't until he hears a crack like thunder that he realizes he's put his hand totally through the mirror and is touching his copy. Around them, the mirror shatters and shards fall like some sadistic parody of rain in those romance dramas. The copy steps forward, and like that, Jaewon snaps back into reality. If anyone were to look at him now, to really and truly peer into his eyes, they'll notice something wrong. Something missing. Every photo taken thus far has had a look of hope, visible in his eyes and his entire demeanor. It's plain to see when you look for it.  
  
Looking now, it's easy to spot. This singularity, this point of no return. It's not something he can come back from now. Anything beyond this is unprecedented and unaccounted for. This single tipping point is the unbalance that sparked a change. Or rather, extinguished a flame. The hope in someone's eyes is unpredictable. It depends on that person on how easy it is to spark or to snuff the light they hold. Some people can take more than others, but all have their breaking point.  
  
There is no light in Ahn Jaewon's eyes. If you were to look harder, perhaps, then maybe it hadn't been there for a while. Perhaps the embers were the glow of something that died long ago. Wyld dries his tears and squares his shoulders. Takes a deep breath.  
  
He's tired of being nothing more than a **Stigma.**


End file.
